Spare the Lambs (12 page)

From the diary of Judith Smith

March 19, 2001

              I left my apartment, to find Gerald waiting for me across the street.  I didn’t know that any of them knew where I lived.  I was terrified that one of them would come over.  If Lily or Sammy came looking for me, dad might not lose it.  But, if any of the boys came by, he would flip his shit.  I was so worried that when I cautiously crossed the road I didn’t ask why he was there or even say hi.  I told him he had to get out of there and never come back to my place.  None of them could.  My voice was too high and my words came out so fast the I almost couldn’t understand them myself. 

He just raised an eyebrow, which worried me even more.  I grabbed his elbow and walked around the corner of the building.  When I finally looked at his face, it dripped with amusement.  When I explained my insane and violent father, his expression changed from amused to something I can’t explain very well.  I guess the best way I can put it is that he looked like the captain of a football team or something.  His look said he was up to the challenge of a new team.  After I told him I was serious, like ten more times, he told me no one would be stopping by my place.  I don’t think he could really speak for everyone else, but his confidence on that fact made me believe him.

Then, he told me that he’d gone to the hangout spot and found out that Eric had killed himself there.  I was shocked.  I couldn’t believe he would have killed himself.  I told Gerald to stop joking around.  When he convinced me that he wasn’t lying, I burst into tears.  God, I had never personally known anyone that had taken his own life.  There had been kids at my school but I’d never known them.  They weren’t my friends.  They weren’t even the friends of my friends.

I threw myself on Gerald’s chest and cried for a few minutes.  He never put his arms around me, patted my head, or said any words of comfort.  When I managed to pull myself together and pull away from him, his expression chilled me.  For a moment, so short that I can doubt that I really saw it, he looked utterly revolted.  And then, his face fell back into it’s normal half-interested look.

Gerald told me the cops were crawling all over the place, so we couldn’t go there again. If I went back, we were bound to be arrested because of all the cigarettes, joints, and beer bottles left behind.  They would also know that we had been skipping school.  That didn’t seem right, and my face must have shown it.  He told me, even if we didn’t get arrested, my dad would surely find out about it.  That seemed all too likely.

He watched me for a few seconds.  I don’t know what he saw, but he nodded.  He ordered me, yeah ordered, to go to school and act normal, unless I wanted my dad to find out what I had been doing.  When I agreed, he told me someone would come to my school when they found a new spot.  With that, he walked off.  The whole experience was horrible and left me cold.  The rest of the day was a blur of disbelief and trying to act normal.  If any of my classmates still talked to me, I would’ve shared what had happened.  But they hate me, so no one cared that I was out of it all day.

That son of a bitch was there.  He was close enough to the scene to see all the cops.  If only we had read Eric’s confession at the suicide site, we might have questioned him.  He wouldn’t have been arrested on the description alone but we would’ve had his info and started looking into the monster.  However, no one looked at the kid’s belongings until he was at the morgue.  Then, it took them some time to figure out that the dead boy and my case were connected.  Gerald had probably finished visiting all the members of the group by time the confession landed on my desk.

It took two weeks for any of the group to visit Judith again.  As I read her thoughts, I wish I can rewrite history.  Judith was a good girl, if she was being honest in her diary.  As far as I can tell, she never knew about Eric’s confession or his involvement in the Easter Murders.

From the diary of Judith Smith

April 5, 2001

              I got to see Lee today!! <3 As the days went by with no one stopping by, I thought they had forgot about me or blamed me for Eric’s death.  After all, he was so sad around me.  When I finally saw Lee waiting for me, I jumped into his arms, surprising even myself, and kissed him.  He didn’t push me away or simply wait for the kiss to end.  He pulled me closer and kissed me so hard that my legs are still weak.  I am so glad, if he hadn’t returned my first kiss, I think I would have died on the spot.

              I was so happy to see him and to kiss him that I didn’t realized that people were looking at us until I heard them snickering.  I saw a few students staring and laughing at our display.  There was a small group of girls from my class and they didn’t look happy at all.  They glared at us like they wanted to hurt me or steal Lee away, or both.  I blushed, but didn’t really care.  I doubt the Asshole had spies at my school.  He is crazy, but I don’t think he has any useful resources he could use to keep track of his “whore” daughter.  If he did, I would’ve had to answer for missing school by now.

              The onlookers didn’t bother me, but Lee seemed nervous.  His eyes darted around taking in all the people as if someone was about to shoot him.  He dropped his head, as if in shame but his eyes still darted.  For a crazy moment, I though he didn’t want anyone to see his face.  Then, he grabbed my hand and we walked away from the school at a fast pace.  That panicked look in his eyes, just like the one he’d had when I found out where he lived, scared me a little.  Why was he so afraid of anyone knowing where he lives or knowing what he looks like?  Maybe Gerald had told him about my dad and he was afraid of what the Asshole would do to him.

              As we walked, hand in hand, my fear slowly passed and I started feeling very happy.  He was holding my hand!  First, a wonderful hug, then a heart stopping kiss, and now we were holding hands.  We had to be an item by now.  I know we hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, but I think we caught up pretty well.  As the blocks grew between the school and us, he slowed his pace and changed his hold.  He was no longer pulling me along, but holding my hand and walking with me.  I told him how much I missed him and the others.  He gave me a heartwarming smile.

              I told him I was sorry about Eric and Lee’s smile faded.  A look of rage passed over his face and he asked if I could never mention him again.  I really wanted to know what had caused that expression, but I agreed to forget about Eric.  We walked for a few more minutes, talking about random things, until we reached a small two-story office building.  It was a new building and the walls were barely finished.  But, for some reason, the construction had been halted.  We walked in and everyone was there.  We talked and smoked a few cigarettes before I had to go home.  Nobody mentioned Eric and Gerald was more quiet than normal.  He silently read through some newspapers and stared out the windows.  As I went to leave, I asked if they would be there tomorrow during school.  Sammy and Lilly said they would be and the others would join later.

            
 
I am really annoyed that Judith’s classmates didn’t mention seeing her with a stranger.  Maybe they could’ve given an accurate description of Lee?  Good enough the and bring him in? I wonder if they’d forgotten or blocked out the fact that their classmate had a boyfriend while they didn’t.  I don’t know if they stopped using the office building before the beat cops searched it or if the guys I sent out were just lazy, but, looking at Eva’s death site, I am betting it wouldn’t have helped.  The scene would’ve been clean.

              Little else is mentioned in Judith Smith’s diary that could help locate any members of the group.  For the most part, the rest of the dairy is about how much she loved Lee and liked the others in the group.  Eric’s death didn’t appear to affect the others too much, even Lily wasn’t mentioned as being too troubled.  Gerald’s reading of newspapers increased as the days past, I believe he was checking on how close we were to catching them.  While a few things didn’t seem right to Judith, she didn’t seem to have the slightest idea who her friends really were.  Unlike Eric, who needed to be knocked out, I think Judith was simply asked by Lee to meet on the 16th and willingly showed up to her own murder.

              No one will ever know why she didn’t take up the offered blade and kill the intended victim.  Clearly, she didn’t kill the child to save her life or for the love of Lee and the others.  Her accounts of her normal life don’t point me towards believing she was such a morally driven person that death was better than killing a random child.  Personally, I lean toward Judith accepting her death as a form of suicide.  With her abusive father, uncaring mother, and the hate of all her schoolmates, I think she was already depressed.  But then to discover what her lover and friends truly were that she welcomed her brutal end.

              While her last entry didn’t supply any useful information, I want to copy it because it shows the complete heartlessness of Lee.  That he could mean so much to her, and possibly her to him, and still hack her up.

From the diary of Judith Smith

April 12, 2001

              Oh my God, I don’t even know where to start.  I had another first today.  The big one!  Ok, so I got out of class and Lee was waiting for me, again.  Instead of going to the hangout spot like normal, we went to his apartment.  I was nervous and when I asked why we were at his place, he said no one was at the normal spot and that we never got to spend time alone with each other.  My stomach was going insane with butterflies.  We got to his place; he showed me to his bedroom and left to get us something to drink.

              I sat at the very edge of his bed with my back straight and my ass half on and half off.  I didn’t know if I wanted to lay back and be comfortable or bolt for the door.  As I sat there, the butterflies in my stomach were joined by birds and possibly cats.  I was so nervous I felt like I would puke.  Lee came back with two cans of coke and said he was sorry he didn’t have any beer.  I told him I was fine and that I didn’t really like beer, which was a lie.  I hated the taste but it helped me relax and feel pretty good.  I could have used a few then.

              He sat on the other end of the bed, as far from me as he could get.  This made me happy and at the same time pissed me off.  We talked about nothing for about an hour.  I still wanted to puke and I couldn’t understand why.  I had been over at boys’ homes before.  I had hung out in their rooms, too, but that had been when I was little.  I hadn’t been to a boy’s room as a woman.  Not since my dad started calling me a slut and whore.

              Finally, we ran out of random things to talk about.  After a few minutes of silence, Lee looked at me and told me that he loved me.  Now that I think about it, I guess I got two firsts today!! <3 My throat sealed shut.  I could only stare at him, his face held worry heading toward terror.  Finally, I managed to force, “I love you too,” pass the lump in my throat.  With those words and his answering smile, the butterflies, birds, cats, dogs, and even horses that were running around in my stomach all went away.  They were replaced by a tightness and warmth.

              I laid back on his bed and he slowly, cautiously moved closer to me.  We kissed long and deep.  His hands started moving over me and well, it hurt at first, a deep ripping.  But after a while, it felt great.  Wonderful even.  I am glad my first time was with him.  I do really love him.  I know my father would go insane and call me a dirty whore if he found out, but what does he know about love?  He can’t even find it in himself to love his own daughters.  I can’t wait to see Lee tomorrow.

Part Four

April 21, 2001 from personal Computer

              I think I might be going mad.  It’s not just that I see people that are dead, but that I listen to them as if they were really there.  I drove up 57th street on my way to work this morning.  Using Judith’s directions I started at a time I guessed Lee would be leaving for school or skipping.  He has to live with someone and they wouldn’t know if he was going to school or not.  To maintain the freedom to hang out with the other murderers I guessed he would leave as if going to school, then go to the hangout spot.  I went slowly up two blocks, searching for any sign of the kid.  I didn’t see anyone that fit Eric’s or Judith’s description.  I quit searching after thirty minutes, betting that I missed him and I headed to work.  I’ll search another section on the way home.  If I can’t find the boy now, I will arrest him once I find him with the help of the force.  I can’t ask around.  If the boy came up missing people might remember my questions.

              Luckily, Judith wrote a lot in her diary, so I can stretch my reading of it out for a few days before I come across her discovering where Lee lived.  It will give me a head start, if only a little one.  Everyone at the department has seen me devote every moment to this case, if I took my time on this diary, they would wonder what was wrong.  They might even take the case from me, thinking that I didn’t care about solving it anymore.  I started with her entries from before Christmas and no one really cared.  I doubt anyone really thinks the girl wrote anything useful.  Even the FBI agent had no interest in the diary.

              With no one breathing down my neck, I went over every detail in the entries.  Both to take time, and in case I missed anything last night.  I called it a night around seven and drove down 57th again.  I doubted I would see Lee, but sometimes you get lucky.  I didn’t, but on my drive I did something that makes me question my sanity.

              I turned off of 57th after giving up for the night, and I saw Judith Smith standing at the mouth of an alley.  When we made eye contact, she turned to stare down the alley.  The crazy part is that I pulled over and got out of my car to see what she was looking at.  Connecting something in my head and something happening in reality just proves I am mad.

As it turned out something was happening in the alley.  It had to be a coincidence or I had seen the man looking around suspiciously and only put the phantom of the girl there to make my conscious mind notice it.  A middle-aged woman was being held up by a punk in his early twenties, I estimated.  The man was holding a gun on the woman and I yelled police and he ran.  I chased him and, I am proud to say, caught him.  I tackled the punk a block away in another alley.  When we hit the ground, his gun slid a few feet away.  He tried to crawl to the gun but I was able to get to my feet first and pulled my gun on him.  He stopped, grumbled, and sat on the ground.

              I don’t understand why, but I ended up talking to him instead of arresting him.  Why would he risk being arrested, or possibly shot?  He gave me some sob story about no one wanting to hire him and this is what he needed to do to feed himself.  He was a strong man, fully able to do hard labor and he didn’t look starved in the slightest.  He wore expensive clothes I think it’s called “Urban Wear”.  I can’t even afford that crap.  However, even if I could afford it, I can’t see myself wearing clothing that it designed to be way too big and baggy.  No, his lack of a job had nothing to do with a lack of opportunity, more to do with his habit of wearing his pants at his knees and utterly failing at the English language.

              I thought about how this lazy shit robbed hard working people and I snapped.  Kids were being killed and this guy wanted to point a gun at people instead of pulling up his pants and accepting a minimum wage job.  I holstered my gun, he looked down the alley and tensed slightly to run.  I picked up a metal pipe and hit him in the kneecaps before he could bolt.  He howled and cursed me. 

              Ultimately, I probably helped the man.  Now he can get disability.  Moreover, the next time he tries to rob some law-abiding citizen, they can run away a lot easier.  I picked up the 9mm pistol he’d dropped and found it had a full magazine.  I stormed out of the alley breathing hard.  I wanted to go back and finish the punk off to save the city the trouble he would cause down the road.  As for the woman, she must’ve run off when I’d chased the man away.

I was pissed that I hadn’t killed the gangbanger once I got home and ran the serial number of the gun in the police database.  It had been used in a double homicide, the murder of a woman and her lover by the woman’s husband.  It had disappeared from the police evidence locker, which sadly happens too often, and had been used in three gang-related drive-by shootings.  The last drive-by had killed a nineteen-year old college student.  I should have killed that man.

I thought a lot about the gun and considered that I have a weapon that can’t be traced back to me.  If I am able to root out the little group of monster, I could use it.  If I find them and if I could bring myself to do it.

April 22, 2001 from personal computer

              My second day of searching up and down Lee’s street was a bust.  Either my plan for finding him is half-assed, or I need to face the fact that he might not live in the area I’ve been searching.  Oh well, if I can’t find Lee on my own, it would be better to let the rest of the force find them all and hope that the system finally works.  It will take the beat cops a lot less time to go door to door than it will for me to covertly search for days or weeks.

              I got to the part of Judith Smith’s diary that mentioned meeting Lee for the first time at work today.  I had to tell the captain about it.  He was happy that the diary wasn’t a complete waste of time, but didn’t think it would be very helpful in closing the case.  It’s sad that I have to explain my every move to him and tell him how I think it will help solve the case.  He acts like I am new at this.  He must have forgot about the serial rapist, Michael Dary, who I caught before I even made detective.  Not to mention the scores of small-time criminals I have taken off the streets since my promotion.

I wonder why I still have the case.  Six years without a single arrest can’t inspire confidence.  The reason must be that a few weeks after a body is found the newspapers stop running any stories about the case.  Everyone forgets about it, except me and the parents.  I also finish all the other cases that land on my desk after we exhaust any leads on the Easter Murders.

In a few years, I will be up for retirement from the force.  I should finish this case so I might make lieutenant  before I’m out.   Delivering justice was on my mind off and on all day.  Arrest them and hope for the best, which might get me a promotion, or give them what they deserve, which could land me in jail for the rest of my life.  With those options, I should forget about killing the monsters.  Just take the money and freedom. 

However, I keep thinking about what they have done and that almost any jury will believe a half-decent lawyer when they say, “clearly these kids are insane, just look at their crimes.”

Of course the jury will agree, hell I do.  From Eric’s and Judith’s writings, I can see that they are not sane.  Gerald tossed all his screws out of a window a long time ago and is held together with crazy-glue.  Sammy appears to be deeply depressed and Gerald seemed to be her only antidepressant, she would follow him straight to hell.  Lily grabbed hold of Eric to try and forget the situation she was in.  Lee’s and James’s pranks border on sadism.  They probably all need mental help, but being crazy shouldn’t stop justice.  I haven’t had much dealings with the court system outside of being an expert witness in the cases I have worked on, but I think the three minors could get out of a mad house at twenty-one if they can lie well enough.  Gerald and Sammy could be free the moment they can trick a shrink into believing they are cured.  No, it would be better for me to get gassed than for them to breathe free air.

April 23, 2001 from personal computer

              Somethings we just get lucky.  I was searching the remaining blocks on 57th, when I saw Lee.  I didn’t see him coming out of his apartment building, but I spotted him across the street entering an alley.  I wasn’t sure if the boy truly fit the description, so I took the next side road and searched the street where the alley ended.  I would have missed him if I hadn’t almost hit him.  I was looking off to my left and he came out from the front of a large white van.  I was only going fifteen miles an hour, so I was able to stop in time.  His hair was dark brown and short, a grown out buzz-cut.  He wore newer blue jeans, white Nikes, and a black Disturbed t-shirt.  While I know the kid is messed up, I doubt he would advertise it so the shirt must be for some band I’ve never heard of. 

I didn’t want to lose him until I knew where he lived, so I called the Chief and told him I was sick.  I’m sure he heard the car running but he did say a word.  I followed Lee all the way to his school, the third one I’d visited and asked the teachers to help me find the kids.  For someone that was panicked about Judith knowing where he lived, he didn’t look back once.  If he had, I’m sure he would have noticed the man that almost hit him was now following him.  I pulled over in front of the school and waited.  As far as I could tell, no one noticed me.  That was good for me, but a terrible commentary on school security in the city.

It started to rain around ten and I sat in the car with only the sound of the radio and wipers to keep me awake.  At two p.m. school let out and I almost lost Lee in the rain and crowds.  If he had decided to hang out with his murderous friends, I doubt I would’ve discovered where he lived.  However, I might’ve been able to end the whole thing today if he had.  He broke free of a group of boys and had crossed the street when I found him.  Fearing he would notice me this time, I risked hanging back far enough that if he’d fallen in with another group, I would have lost him.  Luckily, only two or three people were heading in the same direction.  He walked along the sidewalk towards 57th with an umbrella he probably stole from someone else.  I doubt he looked around to see if he was being followed, but I have no way of knowing for sure.

It took forty minutes for Lee to make his way to his home, twice as long as I had been following him in the morning.  He lived in a five-story brick apartment building that must have been built in the 1940s or 50s and looked like it hadn’t been cared for in years.  I parked in front of the building as he entered and waited half a minute before entering myself.  The dented metal doors had a lock that was meant to activate every time the door closed, but someone had kicked it in and the door opened with a  push.  I got inside the building just in time to see Lee’s Nikes disappear up the stairs.  The stairs had carpet that had turned a uniform brown with time and wear, only the far edges revealed their original dark green color.  The floors were solid and I was able to follow the boy silently.

I slowly made my way up the stairs, careful not to allow my face to show until I knew there wasn’t anyone in the halls.  No one would recognize me from the few TV appearances I’d made during my career, but I didn’t want to risk it.  On the third floor, I saw Lee disappear into an apartment halfway down the hall.  I heard the door slam as I approached.  I gave his door a brief glance before continuing to the staircase at the other end of the hallway.  Lee, the murdering fifteen-year old, lives in apartment number 37 at 1569 57th Street.  Now, what to do with this information?

As I left the building, I heard a high pitched meowing.  Ten feet from the doorway, a little black kitten huddled under an overgrown flower box.  It was soaked and had huge green eyes. 

“Poor little kitty.  Someone should take you home,” I told it.  If it stayed there, who knows what Lee would do to it.  Before I realized what I was doing, I had the cat in my hand and was tucking it under my coat.  I stopped at a pet shop and got a bowl, food, litter, and litter box.  It took me five minutes of reaching, coaxing, and begging before I cornered the cat in my car and was able to grab it.  Once in my apartment, it ran to a corner and stayed there.  I placed the box and bowl where it could see its food and litter.  I took a long shower.  Then I passed out on my recliner.

When I woke for my nap, the kitten was sleeping in my lap.

April 24, 2001 from personal computer

              What should I do? I asked myself this question all day.  While I pet my new cat.  While I lifted weights at the gym.  While I pretended to read Judith’s diary and while I avoided Agent Johnston. Should I arrest Lee and let him use the location of the others to get immunity or force him to tell me the names before delivering justice. 

His name is Lee Maynard.  His older brother, the lease holder, is Michael Maynard and is twenty four years old.  Their parents died in a car accident when Lee was six.  Michael has been working in one factory or another since taking on the responsible of raising his younger brother.  He had a few parking tickets, but nothing else.

              I don’t know if I can do it.  Can I really be thinking about killing a child in cold blood?  I need to make a decision.  They’ve all avoided justice for far too long.  I think I will leave it in the Chief's hands, if he gets the uniformed officers to do a door to door of 56th, 57th, and 58th Streets, then it’s the system’s job to deliver justice.  If he drags his feet, I may have to do it for the system.